


she can't come to the phone right now

by jessequicksters



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: F/M, a little spicy snowells for the archive, illicit affairs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:29:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26865946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jessequicksters/pseuds/jessequicksters
Summary: “Nice to meet you, stranger,” she drawls, licking her tongue across her bottom lip. She looks at Harrison's bloodied lip and pouts. “Did I do that?”(Or, the fic in which Frost busts into Caitlin's body while she's getting it on with Dr. Wells. Pre-canon.)
Relationships: Caitlin Snow/Eobard Thawne | Harrison Wells, Killer Frost/Eobard Thawne | Harrison Wells
Comments: 6
Kudos: 17





	she can't come to the phone right now

“Cait,” Harrison breathes, fingers plucking away at the buttons of Caitlin’s white blouse.

He forgets, sometimes, how to be delicate when she’s around him.

He knows it sends her to places, when he uses that voice, when he uses that tone; it’s like a nightingale’s love call at dusk. Harrison wants to meet her there, the place where dusk turns to midnight’s desire. It’s always a promise.

“Let me do this for you, Caitlin,” Harrison whispers, just as she’s trying to unclasp her bra from behind.

His hands are steady as they take over. She nods, biting down a smile as she closes her eyes to enjoy this. Harrison knows, that deep in her mind, she’s still trying to reconcile what they’re doing. (What lovers do, when the labs are empty and the midnights are quiet and hungry.)

He gets Caitlin on the table, his table, and pulls her legs around his waist. She has strong thighs, he notes, as they clutch around him particularly tightly tonight; a constricting bow that sends jolts of electricity into his—

He kisses her, and she bites back so hard it draws blood.

Two white pupils stare back at Harrison. Caitlin’s locks transform into silver-white. Her skin is ghostly pale. Her lips are frozen black. He still wants to taste them, perhaps even more now.

“Nice to meet you, stranger,” she drawls, licking her tongue across her bottom lip. She looks at his bloodied lip and pouts. “Did I do that?”

Interesting—she’s come early.

“You’re not my Caitlin.”

“That’s right,” she leans in, blowing light sprinkle of frost into his face. He sends a jolt of the speedforce through his body to warm up, just the lightest amount, but the frost is still quick to take over.

“Never really understood what Caity ever saw in you.”

He squints at her, as if examining her: her intentions, her mysteries, her condition. He knows all of the answers to all of these questions, of course, knows the insides of Caitlin Snow’s body like the back of his hand, even before she does.

He knows everything except the answer to why.

“If I may, is this—dissociative—no, wait, dormant genes, perhaps?”

“You tell me, Doc. You’ve been through all of Caity’s medical records—and more. Besides, you don’t seem at all concerned about the fact that you’re inches away from being my first.”

She glances down at her legs, tightly wrapped around his, their hips so close to touching, like glacier peaks about to meet.

“Your first?”

She grins, startlingly wide. “My first kill—I don’t trust you.”

“Says the woman who just threatened to end a man’s life in the basest of positions.”

Harrison lets himself bring a hand to her bare chest; it’s quite marvelous really, the layers of permafrost that encases her cells in order to achieve this impossible harmony with the human physiology. He cups her breasts with both hands. (They’re still incredibly smooth, though Harrison would wager that this new skin is near impenetrable.)

Caitlin would find it all so fascinating.

He leans in to kiss her, diving into her neck as he slips a finger into her satin underwear. It’s cold inside. How amusing. He chuckles just as she tightens her grip on the back of his neck.

She pulls on his hair as his head gets violently tugged back up. He finds the faintest flush of pink on her blue-tinted skin.

“Look, I’m no snake. I’m here to look out for Caitlin,” she says through gritted teeth.

“How exactly. . . is this looking out for her,” Harrison says, slowly retracting out of her, as he hooks two of his wet fingers onto the thin lace and snaps it back onto her.

“I just needed to know what our sweet Caity is getting herself into. Like I said, I don’t trust you. I know you don’t trust me, either.”

Ah, now that, Harrison understands. A mutual agreement. It seems that Caitlin’s alter-ego wasn’t quite ready to make herself known just yet. Harrison knows the feeling.

Her trust would be invaluable in the coming years. She could very easily be the very thing to unravel everything: not just between him and Caitlin, but his entire fifteen year-plan in the making. He needs to tread carefully.

“I trust that we both have her best interest at heart,” Harrison says. She nods in response.

“We do. Now, make it good so she doesn’t notice she was gone.”

She licks her blue lips and Harrison leans in to devour her mouth. They’re like twin glaciers, again, now melting into hotter seas.

“Dr. Wells,” Caitlin breathes, touching his bloodied lip. Panic floods her eyes.

“You’re bleeding. I’m so sorry, I didn’t notice—”

He murmurs her name gently, like the lull of a nightingale’s song. He's brushing his fingers through her hair and whispers, “Never apologize for anything you do to me.”


End file.
